


A Full Moon over the Pumpkins

by spikesgirl58



Series: Mouth of Babes [42]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E.
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-25
Updated: 2013-10-25
Packaged: 2017-12-30 11:00:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1017801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spikesgirl58/pseuds/spikesgirl58
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Irina is carefully painting a pumpkin patch worth of pumpkins.  Lisle is arranging a display and Illya is taking care of the twins.  What could possibly go wrong?  Napoleon is about to find out.  Based upon a photo prompt from Sparky955</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Full Moon over the Pumpkins

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sparky955](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparky955/gifts).



Napoleon paused in the doorway of the playroom and surveyed his little kingdom.   After a hard day at UNCLE, it was good and re-centering to come home to his grandchildren.   He felt he could face anything knowing he had them, his son and daughter-in-law, and Illya to come home to. 

Irina was hard at work painting pumpkin after pumpkin, obviously testing the practice makes perfect theory.  She’d been giving poster paints for her sixth birthday and the child was quite intent upon mastering her technique.   Her single-minded approach to her art reminded Napoleon of some of the politicians he’d met earlier in the week.

The twins, very rowdy two year olds, were chasing each other around the room, shrieking and squealing.  Their blond hair was tied back with matching headbands, compliments of Irina’s strong fashion sense – obviously, her paternal grandfather’s influence.  It was the only thing matching that they wore.  Lisle, their mother, insisted that while nature might have decreed that they looked alike, she wasn’t going to perpetuate it and dress them the same.  Because of that, Peter was wearing his sister’s pants and his older sister’s pink tutu.  Inessa had on overalls that were one size too small and a cape. 

Inessa bumped up against Irina and she scowled, pushing her sister away roughly.  “Nessa!  Look what you did!  You made me mess up.”

Inessa glared, then yelled, “BANG!” and raced away, joined by her brother, the chastising already forgotten.  Napoleon wished more governments had as short a memory when it came to wrong doings.

“Be nice, Irina,” Napoleon cautioned and the headful of bouncy brunette curls turned towards him.  “Remember, you were a baby, too, once upon a time.”

“Oh, Grampy that was years ago.”

“You being the old woman of six.”    He leaned over her shoulder.  “Why so many pumpkins?”

“Cause it’s nearly Halloweeny.  I’m makin’ a pumpkin patch.”

“So it is.  What are you going to be this year?”

“A fairy princess ballerina unicorn kitty.”

“Hmm, can’t wait to see the costume.”

“That’s what Mommy said.”

Napoleon squatted down and held his arms wide.  “Who wants a hug?”

Both Peter and Inessa ran to him with a laugh.

“Me!  Me, Gampy!” Peter shouted and half leapt at his grandfather. Napoleon scooped him up and jiggled him around.   He giggled happily

“Me, too!” Inessa cried with a little jump of her own and Napoleon lifted her up as well.

“And just in time for a bath, too,” Napoleon said.  “You two are ripe!”

“And I’m old enough to remember that trick,” Irina murmured, returning to her painting. 

Twin choruses of “No baff” and they started to struggle, but Napoleon held them firm.

“Yes, baff.”  Napoleon laughed as he walked towards the bathroom.  Illya was wiping his hands on his pants as he limped out of the room. 

“Everything is ready,” Illya said, gestured them onward.  “I’ll wash and you can dry.”

“No baff!” Peter struggled and Illya scooped the youngest off Napoleon’s shoulder.  “No, Poppy, no baff!”

“Yes, Poppy.  Now, settle down.”  He grunted as he set the boy on the floor and pulled the tutu over his head.  “Take off your shoes and socks before your pants.”

“Is that frequently an issue?”  Napoleon wasn’t always on hand for the bedtime routine.  He was kneeling and helping Inessa out of her coveralls.

“With these two, yes.”  He pointed to the now naked little boy.  “Peter, march!”

With a sigh, the boy climbed into the tub and immediately began to play with the toys that were half hidden in the bubbles.

“And how did we pull bath duty tonight?”  Napoleon lifted Inessa into the tub and she began to splash her brother, who splashed back.

“Lisle wanted to set up a Halloween display on the patio.  It’s easier when you don’t have copious amounts of help.”

“Poppy, what do copious mean?”  Inessa had paused in her play and looked very serious.

“It means _twin trouble_.”  Illya wiggled his finger and both children laughed and went for the safety of the bubbles.

Napoleon secretly envied Illya his part time status with UNCLE.  The Russian was on hand to watch the grandkids grow from day to day.  There were times when Napoleon would go for a week without seeing them at all.  He would leave before they’d gotten up and come home after they’d gone to bed.  When he did see them, they’d grown or learned a new skill.  They were springing up before him and he was too busy most of the time to see it.

Not that Illya wanted his imposed work schedule, but he wasn’t bouncing back from the latest round of surgery as quickly as any of them had hoped.  With the only option being enforced retirement, Illya dealt with it as he had so much of the setbacks in his life, with grin determination and stubbornness.

“Hey, Earth to Napoleon.”  Illya’s fingers snapped in front of Napoleon’s nose and he jumped slightly.  “Are you okay?”

Illya’s white cotton shirt was wet through and clung to his torso.  His hair was dripping and he had suds crowning his head.  Napoleon chuckled and wiped off the bubbles.  “I am very okay.  I’m home and everything is right in my world or is it?  What’s wrong?”

“Would you go downstairs and see if the towels are done?  Lisle took a load down earlier this afternoon and everything should be dry by now.  I don’t dare leave these two alone even for a few minutes.”

“You’re afraid they’ll drown?”

“I’m afraid they’ll destroy the bathroom.”

“Not a problem.”  Napoleon gave him a half salute.  Before leaving, he paused at the playroom.  Irina had pumpkin paintings, in various stages of drying, scattered around the room.  “I like your pumpkin patch, sweetheart.”

“Thank you, Grampy.”  Irina brushed at some orange paint staining her cheek.  “I think it’s beautiful!”

 

On his way to the stairs. Napoleon paused at oldest grandson’s room.  Alex had the fingers of one hand buried in his blond hair and the other one was drumming a pencil against a piece of wrinkled paper.  The boy sighed and began to erase something.  “How is it going, Alex?”

Alex looked up with a mournful expression on his face. “Grampy, is it possible for math to make your head explode?  Cause I think mine is about to blow up.”

“I have been there a time or two myself, my boy.  What’s wrong?”

“We’re doing fractions.”

“You poor child.  I thought they held off on fractions until fifth grade.”

“Not anymore.  I think it’s a con… con…se... because of this stupid New Math.”

“I understand.”  Napoleon pulled up a chair and sat down beside Alex.  “Let’s see what we can do.”

They worked on several problems and Napoleon felt a flush of pride at the way Alex approached each problem, using what he’d just learned to apply it to the new situation.

“NAPOLEON!” Illya shouted.  “PETER!  INESSA!  GET BACK HERE!”

“BABIES!”  Irina screamed.

“Wow, Poppy sounds almost as mad as Irina,” Alex said,  
setting down his pencil.  “That’s going some.”

 “Ye gods, I forgot about the towels!”  Napoleon jumped up with a start and ran out of Alex’s room narrowly avoided his oldest granddaughter who was holding paintings and fuming. 

“Look what they did, Grampy!”  She shook two smeared paintings at him as Napoleon headed down the stairs, following the puddles.  He nearly colliding with Leon as he got to the foot of the stairs.

“Whoa, slow down, chief.”  Leon grabbed his father’s arm.  “There’s a speed limit here for anyone over five feet tall.”

“Illya needs towels!”

“Too late.  Two naked babies went that way.”  Leon pointed left even as he went right.

Napoleon headed in that direction and slammed to a stop.  The twins were holding hands and standing in front of a display of pumpkins and gourds that Lisle had arranged on the porch.  On their bottoms were twin pumpkins, the result from having applied wet butts to Irina’s paintings.

“Camera,” Leon murmured, passing it over and Napoleon quickly snapped off a half dozen shots before the twins realized they had an audience.

Illya came to a stop beside Napoleon and panted.  “Oh… oh, my word.  That’s…”

“Precious,” Lisle said, softly.  She hugged her husband.  “I think we have our Christmas card.”

“I don’t think so,” Irina sputtered.  “They mess up my pumpkins!”  She waved a smeared painting at her parents.  “What is Santy gonna say about these!”

“Well, look at it this way.  At least we got to the bottom of things,” Napoleon said, happily, then he looked around, suddenly aware that he was alone.  “Guys?  Guys?  It wasn’t that bad…”

 

The photo:

 


End file.
